7, The Dark before the Light
by Penelope-Jane-Avalon
Summary: Merlin has waited for Arthur's return for more than a thousand years. How can a man live in the shadows for so many years?


The Dark before the light

'You only live twice or so it seems, one life for yourself and one for your dreams…'

Merlin sighed. If only he had lived just twice, but he had walked the earth for more than a thousand years and in that time he had lived so many lives.

And all these lives had been lived in the shadows, limited by the constant need for secrecy and anonymity. The powers of darkness and black sorcery could never know that King Arthur still lived and that one day he would return. They could never know that Merlin was the guardian of the place in which Arthur and his knights slept their enchanted sleep, for if they knew, they would surely hunt him down and destroy him.

When so many centuries earlier, Merlin had brought Arthur, Gwen and the knights to the cave in which they now lay, he had not really understood what was being asked of him. The Lady of the Lake had warned him that his watch over them would last longer than the normal span of a human life and Merlin had tried to accept that news without complaint. He had wondered how he could live in a world where the people he cared about the most, appeared to be nothing more than breathing corpses and yet he thought he could endure it…somehow. After all, he had no other choice.

But one century had turned into two and then three, and on and on until the world that Arthur would have known had changed beyond all recognition.

When Arthur awoke, if he ever did, his time would be long gone, his citadel no more than tumbled stones, his people scattered to the four winds, his training with sword and shield no longer relevant. He would be a fish out of water, a king with no country to rule, another sitting on the throne that might have been his.

In fact, with so many years consigned to history, there seemed no point in Arthur returning to the world at all. No one would know him and even those who knew his name would think him a deluded imposter.

Merlin tried hard not to let such thoughts overwhelm but sometimes they would build in his mind until he thought his own existence was utterly pointless and then despair would press down on him like a great weight.

Sometimes Merlin could talk himself out of this despondent mood, at other times, when it threatened to consume him, he would walk and walk and keep walking until he had resigned himself to his task. Then he would simply go on living, doing whatever was needed to make sure that practically no-one ever noticed him, or realised that they knew a person who never ever got any older and moved unchanged through the centuries.

When Merlin was actually in the presence of his sleeping friends, it was easier to believe that they would one day wake and so sometimes he spent days or even weeks in the cave. He would eat sleep and wake with no thought to the passing of the hours in the world outside. Instead he would immerse himself in the magic of the cave and its sleeping occupants.

Listening to the sound of their breathing and seeing them turn in their sleep or sometimes even speak as they dreamed, he could persuade himself that their sleep was perfectly normal. At any moment one of them might just open their eyes. But day followed lonely day and week followed week and nothing ever changed. His friends slept on, oblivious to Merlin's hopes and dreams.

On this particular occasion Merlin had spent weeks in the cave, trying desperately to convince himself that his life had meaning, that the task he performed was not completely and utterly meaningless. But when he had finally emerged from the cave's shadows, blinking into the summer sunshine, he had only been more sure that the dream he had, of one day greeting his friends and watching Arthur once more lead the nation, was never ever going to come true.

Consequently, when he told the two young people who worked for him that he was going away, he could not tell them when he would return. For all he knew, he might never come back.

His young companions knew his secret. They knew who and what Merlin was, but in more than a thousand years, others like them had numbered maybe twenty people. So few. So few with whom Merlin had trusted his true identity.

As they watched Merlin walk away neither of them could ignore the air of sad resignation that clung to him like a dark cloud and they were both equally afraid that they would never see their friend and employer again.

The weather had been fine when Merlin set off on his walk, but despite it being summer, it changed quickly. The temperature fell so that it felt more like October than mid August and the rain fell nearly every day.

As Merlin mostly slept out in the open, his clothes seemed to be permanently damp and despite a hardy constitution, honed by years of life on the road, this walk seemed particularly miserable.

There was nothing new to see, or at least nothing Merlin wanted to see, so there was nothing to divert him from his dark thoughts. Merlin knew every path on the mainland of the British Isles, because he had walked them all before, many ,many times. He knew the paths where he would be largely alone, the secret, unused tracks that crossed the land, overgrown and unloved and it was mostly on theses lonely pathways that Merlin trudged.

Sleeping in the wilds under the sky, he could almost imagine that the flags still fluttered over Camelot, its white walls gleaming in the moonlight. In areas far from human habitation, he could see the stars as he remembered them, blazing down from the heavens, their light undimmed by the peripheral glow of the great towns and cities of the industrial world.

But the dazzling night sky and lonely places in many ways only made Merlin feel worse. For when morning came he would see the vapour trail of a jet aircraft and reality would hit him with a crushing blow. He would awake stiff and cold from his bed of leaves and heather and know that it was the 21st century and that Camelot was just a memory.

Eventually, after days of wet nights spent under hedgerows and chilly nights on the moors the lure of a comfortable bed, a pint of beer and decent meal, became too strong for Merlin to resist.

In all honesty, as a young man, Merlin had never really enjoyed sleeping out in the open and in his heart he knew that the march of time, with all its inventions and comforts had made him even less enamoured with camping. Had the solitude improved Merlin's precarious state of mind, then the discomfort would have been worth it. Sadly it had done nothing but increase his feelings of hopelessness.

Merlin headed for a country lane and followed it until he reached a village pub. It was one of those pubs that claimed to be the oldest pub in England and in this case Merlin thought it probably was. Over the centuries he had visited it many times and it had hardly changed at all. It had low ceilings, stained a dirty yellow by years of smoke, a large inglenook fireplace and a wooden bar, rubbed smooth by wax polish and the weight of countless elbows. It was dark and timeless.

Merlin walked up to the bar and ordered his pint of beer and asked for a room for the night. Then he sat by the fire. It had been lit because of the unseasonable weather and Merlin sat close to the hearth staring into the flames.

In his pocket he had his mobile phone, just in case his young friends needed him for anything and also to check the daily news, his own particular addiction.

But tonight he realised, he just did not want to look at the news. There was always death and destruction somewhere in the world, always poverty, torture and starvation. Even good news was always tempered by the bad. Indeed, Merlin sometimes found that he could not quite believe the depths to which the human race had sunk and yet despite it all, apparently there was no need for Arthur to return. To Merlin this simply did not make sense.

Merlin knew that the United Kingdom would soon begin to suffer from the effects of global warning. There would be floods and droughts and these would be swiftly followed by the new viruses, which were already decimating the population on the African Continent. Disaster was very possibly only years away and the kingdom would need good honest leadership, if it were to survive. What it had were self-serving and largely unprincipled politicians and a monarch who was nothing more than a powerless figurehead. The people needed Arthur, and yet still he slept on, as if the world outside the cave was full of joy and light.

Merlin went to the bar and ordered another drink and then another. Maybe if he drunk enough tonight he would sleep and maybe tomorrow, the sun would shine. Merlin had little hope of either.

Early the next morning, he ate a hasty breakfast, eager to be back on the road. He had long trek ahead of him before he would reach his next destination. He had already decided that he would stay at another pub and if he kept up a good pace, he knew he could get there by early evening.

He made good progress during the morning and for a while, the sun did make an appearance. By late afternoon however, a rainbow in the sky painted a dramatic splash of colour over billowing dark grey clouds and Merlin quickened his pace.

He guessed he had maybe an hour or so before another deluge and so instead of the circuitous route he had planned, avoiding a small drab market town, he decided to cut through the outskirts, along a path used by children on their way to and from school.

The path was wide and well used and liberally sprinkled with sweet wrappers and the occasional empty lager can or cigarette packet. Unable to walk by the detritus, Merlin destroyed it with a quick glance. Once paper had been something rare, something of value. Now it was just a convenient wrapper, to be discarded without a second thought. In this world, he thought sadly, everything was disposable.

Ahead of him was a small children's playground. Two young women were sitting on a seat by the swings and slides, unenthusiastically pushing their babies backwards and forwards in their pushchairs. They were not talking. Instead they were concentrating all their attention on their mobile phones, scrolling though texts or photos. If they were friends, they clearly had little or nothing of consequence to say to one another. When one got up to leave, the other barely acknowledged that she was going, grunting something unintelligible and then going back to her phone.

Merlin shook his head. Technology was both a blessing and a curse. True, the internet meant that everyone had access to vast amounts of information with just a click, but it also connected those whose dark desires and deeds might once have had no outlet. Now they could join in online groups and indulge their deviant behaviour, happy and encouraged by the thought that they were not alone. There were others like them, others who would act, while they dared not. Others, who would post videos and photos for their gratification.

This dark web of horror spread around the world like a cancer and Merlin not only knew of its existence, but stalked its users, trying to thwart their plans and where possible, bring them to the attention of the authorities. As in all things he was hampered by the need to go unnoticed by society and often he was forced to act alone. Every time he did this, he was terrified that he would be uncovered, but he could not sit idly by and watch innocents suffering.

As Merlin started to skirt the play area he noticed a man sitting on a bench close to the climbing frame. He was paunchy with tattooed hands and a shaven head. Like the girls he too clutched a phone in his grubby hands, but he wasn't looking at texts. Instead he appeared to be taking pictures of two little girls swinging on the bars.

All Merlin's senses were suddenly on the alert.

Before he could decide what to do, the girls dropped to the ground and set off across the open grass towards a council estate some half a mile away.

The man got up and followed them. His longer strides meant that he caught up with them in seconds.

He turned, smiled and said something to one of the children. Merlin reached out to hear. He was still at least a hundred yards behind them but he could hear quite clearly when he tried.

"Yea, really. I've got five of them and they all need good homes."

"Is there a ginger one?" asked the taller of the two children.

The man nodded enthusiastically. "Yea and it's the cutest one. You can have it for free. I can't afford to keep them all, or I would. I love cats, don't you?"

The child nodded and then said, "Our cat, Kevin died last week. He was ginger and I miss him. Mum would like another kitten. She said we could get one, but she's been too busy."

"So come and see and I'll give you a cardboard box to put it in so you can take it home."

The child appeared to consider this for a moment and then she said, "If you come to my house, we can get my mum and she can come with me."

"Yes," urged the smaller child, until now silent, but clearly uncomfortable talking to this man.

"My mum says we must always come straight home," she continued, "and never talk to strangers."

The man grinned, "I'm not a stranger. I live round here. I seen you on them swings and slides lots of times. You must 'ave seen me."

The child frowned and looked doubtful and tugged at her friend's arm.

"Lets go and get your mum," she told her friend, "and THEN go and look at the kittens."

"If you do that, they might all be gone. My wife's got some friends coming round to take a look and by the time you get there, there might be none left. The ginger one is bound to go first 'cause it's the best."

The tall girl took only a minute to make up her mind.

"I'll come and Cathy can go and tell my mum that I'll be late."

"Na, you don't want to tell her anything. We'll be hardly any time and you want to surprise her don't you, love? Here come on, 'old my 'and and we'll go and get this kitten.'

Not waiting for more to be said, he took the taller girl's small hand in his and began to walk to wards the road.

The smaller child stood still for a moment, unsure what to do. Behind her friend's back, the man shot her a menacing look and the little girl turned and ran off towards the housing estate, as fast as her legs could carry her.

Merlin could see a dirty white van parked by the curb and suddenly he felt sure that the man was heading towards it.

He started to run.

The man leant down towards the little girl, his face twisting into an approximation of an encouraging smile. "C'mon we'll go in my van," he told her. "Get there even quicker then. Have you and your kitten home, before your Mum starts to worry."

Some prior warning must have triggered in the child's memory, for at the mention of the van, she began to hang back. The man however only quickened his pace, hustling her along and holding out his key fob to unlock the van doors.

As Merlin heard the bleep unlocking the vehicle, he laid a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Let go of that little girl," he said, his voice hard and cold.

"And who the 'ell are you? She's my niece. I'm taking her back to mine, to get a kitten.' He turned to the child, "Come on, you, get in."

He shrugged off Merlin's hand, pulled the van door open and pushed the little girl forwards. Unbalanced, she stumbled and fell to the ground.

The man bent down swiftly, hauling the child to her feet. But before he could push her into the front seat, Merlin was standing in front of him.

The man looked startled, unable to comprehend how Merlin had moved so quickly. He opened his mouth to say something and then let go of the child as if she had given him an electric shock.

He clutched at his neck, his face rapidly going a strange shade of purple and then he staggered backwards and stumbled to his knees.

"Whaa…t…stop…stop…can't breathe."

Merlin stared at him. "I'm not doing anything," he said calmly, helping the girl to her feet.

"Don't worry," Merlin told the child, "We'll call an ambulance for the nasty man and I think we should call the police as well. He is not a nice man at all and I think maybe he needs to go to prison, don't' you?" He glanced over at his victim, now completely collapsed on the ground and gasping like dying fish,

The child nodded, tears starting to run down her face. She clutched at Merlin's arm, half standing behind him, but looking worriedly at the writhing figure on the ground.

Merlin was already on his phone calling for the police and the emergency services.

The police arrived first, their car screeching to a halt a few feet behind the parked van.

One male and one female officer emerged from the vehicle and Merlin quickly told them exactly what he had seen and heard.

The policewoman knelt down beside the little girl and asked her, her name. The child told her she was called Tanya Swaine but she refused to let go of Merlin's arm and join the policewoman in the car.

"It's alright," the policewoman reassured her, "we'll just sit in the car until everything is sorted out and then we'll take you home to your Mummy. You'll get to ride in the police car. Your friends will be dead jealous."

Tanya still looked uncertain, until Merlin promised her that he would come with her as soon as the 'nasty man' had been dealt with.

The policewoman smiled gratefully at him and helped the nervous child into the police vehicle.

Merlin had released his 'hold' on the 'would be' child abductor and now the man lay, panting on the ground. If he thought about running, he was clearly aware that he did not have the strength. Just attempting to sit up, seemed beyond him.

The police officer was clearly in two minds as to how to treat the suspect. Was he actually having some sort of heart attack, or was it something else? Whatever it was, the suspect seemed to be recovering without the need for CPR and since he was clearly conscious there was no need to try and put him in the recovery position.

Already the suspect was starting to complain about the man who had called the police to the scene.

"That bloke over there, 'im, he attacked me, tried to strangle me, tried to kill me. I wasn't doing nuffing. The kid just wanted a lift, that's all."

The policeman looked at Merlin, who merely shrugged.

"I haven't laid a finger on the man," he said, calmly, "The child was clearly trying to get away from him and had fallen on the ground as he tried to push her into the car. The next thing I knew he was on the ground, clutching his throat."

"And you didn't touch him at all?"

"Definitely not. I am sure if you ask the little girl, she will tell you."

The policeman nodded and said something to the paramedics who had also arrived at the scene.

They had already carried out a quick examination and the older looking of the two medics was frowning.

"So does he need hospitalisation?" asked the police officer

"I'm not sure, but I think he's just had some sort of panic attack. His pulse is steadying and he's breathing all right. I suppose we should probably take him in for observation."

"Any sign that he's been assaulted, attempted strangulation maybe?"

The medic shook his head.

"Nothing like that. What do you want to do? Was he really trying to abduct that little kid? If he was, then maybe one of you should travel with him in the ambulance."

The police officer agreed. "I'll call for back up and a colleague will come with you, but he's quite stable, yes?

The medic nodded. "Yep, no immediate danger that I can see."

The officer walked over to his vehicle and had a quick conversation with his colleague. The child seemed to have calmed down considerably and immediately corroborated Merlin's story. She explained that the nasty man had promised her a kitten but that when she did not want to get in his car, he had tried to force her.

"Then, " she said, as the nice man came to help me, the horrid man just fell down and went all red."

The policeman eyed Merlin, "And are you sure this gentleman didn't grab him or anything?"

The child shook her head slowly from side to side.

"No. All he did was look at him and he fell down like….like magic!"

"Magic eh?"

Tanya nodded. "Yes he 'magiced' him to fall down and go all red."

The policeman grinned at Merlin.

"We'll need a full statement from you, sir, so I would be obliged if you would come with me and my colleague. We will take the child home and then hopefully we can take her statement in the presence of her mother."

"I'm happy to do that, Officer," answered Merlin, although in reality he wanted nothing more than to disappear into the bushes. Unfortunately he had a duty to see that this evil individual was taken into police custody and for that he would need to give evidence and corroborate the child's version of events.

"You might want to look at his phone," he suggested, before getting into the police car. "It looked to me as if he was taking pictures of the girls on the climbing frame. It was that which made me follow him."

The policeman raised his eyebrows.

"I think we will definitely be looking at his phone, sir. Don't you worry about that!"

It was already quite late, when Merlin left the police station and he was forced to take a taxi to the pub he was staying in for the night.

He was just in time to order food, but when the meal came, it was greasy and unappetising. Merlin ate little and drunk a lot. Then he went to bed and lay in the darkness wondering what terrible things would have happened to little Tanya, if he had not chanced by. Despite a heavy duvet, he shivered and when he finally slept, his dreams were full of terrifying images of pain and suffering.

He had given one of his many aliases to the police and an address in North Wales. He owned a house there, but it had been rented out since the 1960's, everything dealt with by a letting agency and a solicitor. Nobody in that small town would be able to give the police any information about him at all.

Merlin simply could not allow himself to be dragged into a court case and in this instance; he knew that Tanya's evidence and images on the man's phone, would be enough to see him incarcerated.

Despite this, Merlin knew the police would try and track him down as a witness and so he made sure that he was on his way early the next morning.

Before eight o'clock he had paid his bill and with nothing more than a couple of slices of toast and a cup of tea, he got back on the road.

As soon as he was clear of the town, Merlin found a thicket of scrubby trees and having made sure that he was not being observed, he disappeared into their midst.

When he emerged on the other side some minutes later, gone was the young man with rucksack and hiking boots. In his place was an old man with long grey hair and beard, dressed in a dirty old raincoat, tied at the waist with string.

In place of the rucksack he carried an old holdall, slung on his shoulders and his modern boots had now changed into filthy old lace up shoes.

He was no longer a young man on a walking holiday. Instead he was an old tramp, a knight of the road, the kind of person most people would go out of their way to avoid.

In his new guise, Merlin set off again, heading he knew not where. He felt almost physically sick with emptiness and despression and no longer cared which road he travelled. He turned his face into the driving rain and simply put one foot in front of the other. There was nothing for Arthur to come back for. This land was broken. Evil stalked even the most nondescript of places and even though he had saved one little soul, he knew that there were many others he would not and could not save. He hated this land and everything in it. He didn't want to save its inhabitants anymore. He just wanted to get as far away as he could from everybody and everything. He wanted to disappear just like his younger self. He wanted to vaporise like the morning mists.

He wanted to die.

By midday, he was trudging along a fairly busy road. The vegetation on the verges grew nearly waist high and was crowded with stinging nettles and brambles. He was thus forced to walk on the tarmac. Heavy trucks and cars sped past and Merlin was frequently splattered with mud and stones.

His long straggly hair dripped water over his face, mingling with the tears, which came and went as the miles slipped by.

He was not aware of a particular car, which passed him, nor did he notice its occupants. He was in fact past noticing or caring about anything, He was thus totally unprepared for what happened next.

Some several yards ahead of him, the car stopped and the person in the passenger seat got out of the car and ran back towards him. As she ran she held a folded newspaper over her head to try and protect herself from the rain.

She stopped in front of him and thrust out her hand. In it was a £20 note.

She smiled. "Here, take this. Go and buy yourself a cup of tea and get out of this awful weather."

And then before Merlin had the chance to say anything, she was running back to the car and being driven away.

Merlin stared at the damp note in his hand and as the rain splattered on to it, something happened.

A smile spread across his weary face, a smile that lit up his eyes and utterly transformed him. He did not notice the rain anymore. He did not notice the mud on his sodden clothes. He just knew that there was still something good in this land. The world was not all evil. There were people who cared about others, even if they were strangers. There WAS still a reason for Arthur to return.

Just a day later Merlin slipped behind the thick undergrowth that concealed a wall of granite. He pressed his hand to the stone, spoke the words for opening and stepped through a crack in the rock, which opened beneath his touch.

In the dimly lit passage on the other side, just as he always did, Merlin paused and listened. The air was still and at first it appeared that the passage was completely silent. Then, as Merlin strained his ears, he heard it, the faint sound of breathing,

He walked down the passage and into the cave beyond, Then, he went slowly round the rocky chamber, stopping to touch the forehead of each sleeping body before finally kneeling down next to his king.

"Arthur," he said softly, "A few days ago, I decided that I wanted to die. I did not know how I would accomplish such a thing, since it appears that I am immortal. But, if I had found a way to end my life, then I would have condemned you and all who lie with you, to death.

As far as I know, although many times I have wished it were not so, I am the only one who can bring you out of your enchanted sleep.

It is my responsibility and mine alone, to watch over you until I am given the sign that it is time for you to return to the world."

Merlin shook his head. "The trouble is that lately, every time I looked into the future, I could see only darkness. All my dreams of how it would be when you all finally woke, were lost to me. I could not see a future for you, for me, or for any of us.

Fortunately something happened, something that made me see things differently and now, Arthur I need you to know that I WILL wait for the sign that I am to wake you. I will wait for as long as it takes. I will not desert my post. I will not abandon you or any of my dear friends who rest here along side you.

I realise now that although there is evil in this world, there is still some goodness in it and the good people of this land will one day need you to lead them."

Merlin sat back on his heels and sighed. "Sometimes it seems to me that I have lived a hundred lives and yet I know that in reality, I have LIVED only one. One life when the castle of Camelot was my home. Since then, although I have walked the earth, I have not truly been a part of it. I am like a ghost and all I leave behind me are shadows. Only when everyone in this cave awakens will I truly begin to live again and even though that day still seems a far off dream, I will wait for it to come. I cannot tell you that it is easy to wait. It is not, but it is a price I will gladly pay, if it means one day we may walk and talk together in the sunshine and that one day you will once again be the rightful king of these lands. Please, please forgive me for ever thinking that I could walk away from all my responsibilities. It will not happen again."

As Merlin finished speaking, he laid his hand on Arthur's shoulder. His friend stirred, turning in his sleep and bringing his own hand up to cover Merlin's.

It could surely not have been a conscious act and yet a warmth spread through Merlin's body and the hope of Arthur's resurrection was once again alive within him. Arthur would return and no matter how long it took, no matter how lonely and difficult the years before that day came, Merlin would wait.

One day, he believed, his dream would come true and his second life would finally begin.

This dream is for you, so pay the price.

Make one dream come true, you only live twice…..


End file.
